The Love That Threatened the World
by too-much-like-Luna
Summary: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen/Morgana. "They say that Guinevere loved Lancelot, that their's was the love that shattered the kingdom. Merlin wishes that were true." Involves reincarnation.Slash, femslash.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, Arthur, or any other character. Sadly. **

**AN: I have absolutely no idea what this is. At all. But I'm rather fond of it.**

_The Love That Threatened the World_

Morgana turns around once (just like always) and Merlin can see her clearly. Her dress is black, torn, and her eyes show betrayal, confusion and resignation. She looks at the castle, and Merlin does not know whether she sees him, but he avoids her eyes, just in case.

She turns, walks away, and Merlin stands beside Gwen and Arthur as they watch her fade away into the shadows.

He thinks that they have always been like this. Arthur and Gwen, Merlin. Watching Morgana walk away, waiting for the dark fall of destiny.

_Screams, smoke, blood. And a woman standing in the eye of the storm, arms at her sides, black hair lose around her shoulders. _

_Fear, pain, death. She calls the rains, and they wash the tears from her cheeks._

Merlin stares out the window, hands on his bent knees, watching the rain pouring outside. He remembers. Remembers bright, sunny days spent laughing in the sun, a blond head and three dark heads bent in happy conversation. He remembers the love that shattered a kingdom, and remembers the rain that came, at the end (though, also, at the beginning).

There are tales of them, now.

They say King Arthur was weak, says that his depression at learning of his wife's affair made him an easy target.

They say that Guinevere loved Lancelot, that there's was the love that shattered the kingdom.

Merlin wishes that were true.

_It's raining softly, falling around them. But the sun still shines._

_Morgana has taken off her cloak, and is twirling in the rain. Gwen is chastising her past her giggles, telling her she'll catch a cold, but unable to hide her happiness at Morgana's joy._

"_Come on, Gwen," Morgana calls, and when Gwen shakes her head Morgana twirls toward her until she is close enough to rip Gwen's cloak away and to the side. "Twirl with me," she says, and holds out her hands, smiling brightly._

_Gwen shakes her head but takes Morgana's hands, and does not resist when Morgana starts twirling them both in circles. Gwen is beautiful in the rain, hair falling lose, head bent back so that the rain hits her face first. Morgana stops smiling, and focuses intently on Gwen, whose eyes are closed toward the sky as they spin together._

_Gwen is beautiful in the rain._

Merlin knows where they all are. He knows Arthur is ahead of him, that Gwen is back at the base camp, that Morgana is somewhere across from him, lost. Merlin looks around the battlefield, and the death and devastation. This image, from the present, is overshadowed by ones from the past. He sees Arthur (this Arthur) turn to look at him, sees the realization on his face, sees thoughts like _Maybe I was wrong,_ and _Shit, what have I done?_ cross Arthur's face. He sees Arthur killed, again.

Merlin sinks down into the bloody mud, crying out as Arthur is stabbed, powerless.

This is what happens.

_They sit around the table, all slightly drunk, none of them caring._

_And if Merlin or Arthur notices Morgana's hand creeping over to gently cover Gwen's, neither of them says anything. They are intoxicated by their very existence, they feel invincible and strong._

_Later, they'll talk of hiding, of must-not, and can- not_, _of what must be and what can never be, _ever,_ and what must be stopped. Gwen will cry and turn away, but not argue. Arthur will feel morose but justified, always the King among them. Morgana will stare at Gwen's back, will argue with her fiercely (will, finally, finally, break down and cry, sobbing at Gwen's feet) will be humiliated and hurt, and will glare at Arthur's back with hatred. _

_And Merlin. Merlin will be Merlin. He will stand in the middle, and he won't do anything. Arthur will always be his King. _

_His personal feelings don't matter when it comes to destiny._

_But, for now, they smile as the dawn approaches, tired and aware that the day will start all too soon, but too happy to move._

Times have changed, now. Subtle still isn't Arthur's strong point, so Merlin steps up to help, just as he always has (just as he always will). They are a fine team, together able to handle both sides of Arthur's rule.

Merlin feels closer to Arthur than ever before, even when he used to undress him every day. He thinks, maybe this time, yes, this time they will get it right. They'll break the mold, they'll be free, they'll win.

But then there's Morgana watching Arthur with darkened eyes, and once again Merlin has to care about advantages, and correctness, and long ago words of _"No. Not anymore. Not ever again."_

When Morgana disappears, Merlin isn't surprised. It isn't madness, he realizes that now. It's self-protection. But memories of a woman standing tall on a realm of destruction haunts his dreams.

_Gwen is respledant in her wedding gown and Arthur looks every inch the golden Prince he is. Perhaps no once notices how often Gwen's eyes stray from her husband, searching through the crowds, or how there is seems to be a nearly unnoticeable tenseness between Arthur and his manservant._

_Morgana corners Merlin, after the peasants have moved their celebration into the lower street and the wedding couple has gone to their suite. Her eyes are frantic, despairing, and Merlin understands exactly how she feels._

"_Doesn't it hurt you?" she whispers furiously. "Watching that. Don't you _care?_ That's _your_ Arthur."_

_Merlin hesitates, feeling the gaping wound inside of him that never has a chance of closing. "Of course it does," he says quietly. "Arthur is my destiny, but this is Arthur's. I will not, _cannot_ change that."_

_She stares at him, shokk and betrayal flashing across her face before it goes blank. "I understand," she sneers, and turns away in a whirl of silken skirts. _

_She reveals her magic the next day, proud and unrepentant in front of Uther before she escapes from the palace._

They all have roles. Their actions have become ingrained over the centuries.

But still, there is always hope. Merlin sees it in Morgana's eyes in all of the early years, sees it in the way Gwen and Morgana interact, sees it sometimes when Arthur glances at him, considering and affectionate.

But there are always complications, wars, plagues, natural disasters. And always, always, there is public opinion to consider.

And then there is always, like a broken record playing over and over, Merlin standing slightly behind and to the side of Arthur and Gwen, as they watch Morgana slip away into her bitterness, not believing that anything can be changed.

And as Merlin watches from the background, he always thinks that someday, somehow, things must change.

_Sometimes, on days when Merlin almost forgets what Kilgarrah told him, he can understand Morgana's actions. Watching Arthur and Gwen perform this parody of happiness, this slur against what should be, makes Merlin feels terribly brittle. His magic roils inside him, reacting to his emotions, and he knows his eyes glow slightly gold whenever he looks at either of them. _

_When it all falls apart, when the Golden Age of Albion ends, it comes creeping in slowly, casting shadows around the previous gaiety. It starts and ends as it always will, with Arthur, Gwen, Merlin, and Morgana. Arthur and Gwen's relationship is just a little more tense, a little more fragile, unfurling it's lies and secrets. It was never going to last, no matter how hard they tried. There are simply some things that cannot be repressed forever._

_Merlin locks himself in his room more and more often. He stares out his window over Camelot, thinking of all the choices that have led them here, of all the things that weren't supposed to happen. He lets his magic go free, and it slides over the land. The land is fertile, prosperous, but even it is shifting into this new age, this harsh time that is coming. It is now that Merlin learns that the land can feel hopeless too._

_It all comes crashing down when it is confirmed that Morgana is fighting with the rebels. Arthur and Gwen had thought they could forget about her part in their past (that she would not be the constant reminder of happier times like Merlin is) and when Morgana's memory is once more imposed upon them, they can no longer ignore their lies._

_And when Merlin stands atop a hill and watches two grim armies clash, when he sees Morgana standing atop a hill behind the enemy army, gown torn and hair a foreboding black across the sky, he recognizes the end._

Morgana tells him once, after Arthur has given his usual speech, after Gwen has agreed and Morgana has only put up a small fight, resigned now to the course their lives would always take "When I was little, I was determined to change the world." she says, leaning her head against the wood of the wall she sits against. "I was going to do something amazing, something no one had done before." She takes a swig from the bottle of vodka she dangles from her fingers.

"And now I realize, I can't even change the course of my own life. It just happens over and over again, and I _let_ it. I always think that maybe it won't happen, maybe this time will be different. But it never is." She laughs hollowly, and the sound scares Merlin with its bitterness. "I always think that this time, I'll learn. That this is the time I won't be left alone. But I'm not strong enough to change it. I'm always left behind."

She starts to sob drunkenly, and Merlin listens to her absently, thinking of all the times they've been in this situation. He thinks of the lines of grief on this Arthur's face, of how his eyes were almost apologetic as he looked at Merlin and broke his heart.

He thinks of all their past lives, of all the times _he's_ been thrown aside too. He wonders how many more times he'll be able to go through it without giving into the temptation to accompany Morgana on her bitter quest for vengeance.

He thinks about the first Merlin, who has also been every Merlin since, but who's body is trapped in a tree for eternity, trying desperately to make things right. Merlin thinks of his eternal quest to be able to erase the memory of rain mixing with blood in a field full of carnage, of thousands of people killed over the centuries in their endless feuds.

He thinks of how Gwen and Arthur and Morgana are forgetting to _care_, how they have become resigned to how things have been, how they have always believed that destiny is something that could not be avoided.

But, perhaps, Merlin thinks, just the fact that they are alive again, that there is also a Merlin in a tree trying to fix Arthur's wrongs even after he has been abandoned again and again, shows that destiny _can_ be changed. That their actions have been wrong, that half of a whole should never try to be anything more than a broken piece with someone who is not their other half.

The next day, Merlin finds out Morgana killed herself.

It is too late for this time, Merlin knows. But, perhaps, by the time they are born again, society will have moved on enough that they can try, try to do right. Try to be happy, and damn the consequences.

_The sky is gray when Arthur is killed. As he is rowed in a boat to Albion, two occupants of the boat converse quietly._

"_We have to try again," the man says determinedly from where he holds the dead King's hand._

_The woman is silent, staring down at the bloodied dress she wears._

"_Morgana," the man says. "It was supposed to go differently, you know that, surely? It has thrown everything off balance. I'm sure you can feel it in the magic. It's fading."_

_Morgana looks up now, surprise etched across her weary face._

"_It won't work at all soon, and I'll no longer be able to avoid being imprisoned in that tree. But, the land needs that magic. It'll destroy itself without it."_

_Merlin reaches out and grasps Morgana's hand. "You can feel it already, can't you? The earth is restless, and it's causing unrest in the people. The magic won't come back until everything goes as it should."_

"_But," Morgana says, "It's too late now."_

"_Yes," Merlin says softly, staring down at the still face of his beloved. "But there will be other times. If you agree, there will be other chances for happiness. I can arrange that."_

_Morgana looks away from Merlin, out across the water to where the field of death is still just barely visible. Her eyes fill with yearning, but she masks the expression quickly. "Yes," she says. "I agree."_

_Merlin smiles at her, already forgiving her for aiding in the destruction of Arthur's land. "One day, you'll get Gwen," he says. "I promise."_

_When Morgana looks at him, her eyes are full of a thinly disguised hope._

Many, many hundreds of years later, when Arthur and Merlin wear matching tuxedos to their wedding ceremony and Gwen and Morgana dance happily together to a slow song at the reception, matching silver bands on their ring fingers, the land gives a long sigh of relief.

Love nearly destroyed it, and the same love brought it back from the brink of destruction.

_Fin_


End file.
